Peter jogged into the room to save him, while the fat snake woman innocently loosened her snake tail from around Yondu and hurriedly brought over a first-aid kit.
She hadn't meant to do it. She'd just felt a little embarrassed seeing so many of Yondu's acquaintances show up and gotten a bit excited.
"How many times have I told you? It's not broken, it's just a dislocated hip joint." Star-Lord tossed Yondu onto the floor, planted a foot on his adoptive father's back, and lifted the limp leg. "I'll set it for you. Bite down on something."
"Fuck, what am I supposed to bite? Eat dirt? You little bastard, and you brought this many people to watch me make a fool of myself. Ahhh!!!"
Star-Lord expressionlessly shoved the leg back into its socket, then dropped it and clapped his hands. "Watch your mouth. If my employer wants to kill you, I won't be able to stop them."
Yondu got up, dragged himself onto the sofa with both hands, accepted the wine the snake woman offered, and drained it in one gulp. Wiping the cold sweat from his forehead, he quietly asked Peter, "Who are they?"
"The Sorcerer Supreme." Star-Lord pointed at Deathstroke, then at Carol. "A Kree Accuser-level warrior."
"And?" Yondu had become much more serious after hearing about only two of them, and even made his sitting posture as proper as possible.
He looked at Elsa, who had yet to be introduced, assuming she had some extraordinary background as well.
But Deathstroke had never told Star-Lord who Elsa was, so he could only make something up. Looking at the enormous ruby hanging on her chest, Peter's eyes rolled. "A rich sugar mama."
A Mage, a warrior, and a financier—the iron triangle for traveling the universe.
Yondu flashed a mouthful